My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

  
I’m

So 

Grateful 

For 

The 

People 

On 

My 

Team. 

(note: I wrote this in 2015, a lot has changed since then. But so much of this has stood the test of time. Recently while working on formulating a manuscript I’m updating this as life has changed and grown.)

I was never much of an athlete. I know I wasn’t coordinated enough and didn’t have the drive to compete. 

But really, I think because it was never about winning for me. I didn’t feel the need to win. 

I knew when I ran half marathons I would never place in my age group, because I was never fast or competitive enough. I just wanted to finish. 

In theater I rarely had the lead role. I never expected it.  Yet, I knew I could make any role mine. 

Did I wish I was the star? Of course, but for some reason just being a part of it was always a win for me. 

So maybe that’s why I never have understood the competitive side of life. 

I’m not talking about sports. I always want Sheldon to win.  But I mean in life. 

 I get that there is always a need for good competition. And I get that some people were just built to move through life that way. I admire those people with their drive and their fire. 

But I’m not like that. 

I’ve never won the lottery or at bingo. But I’ve won two raffle things in the 16 years my kids have been in school. I think it was because Dyp filled out the ticket. I won a certificate to an ax throwing competition at a party last weekend. Again, Dyp filled out my name. 

Competition was the demise of one of my closest friendships growing up, and again for that exact friendship in adulthood. I was tired of the subtle put downs, the one ups, the games. Because I just wanted to be friends. I liked them for who they were, why couldn’t they just like me for who I was? The same goes for certain relationships in my life.  Relationships I thought would always be close that underlined competition slowly cracked the foundation and crumbled.  I never wanted to be a part of a competition, I just wanted to be apart of a relationship. I didn’t want to win, I just wanted to belong. 

I never cared whether people breastfed or bottle fed. I never judged on how organic their diapers were. And really who has the time to tell someone who just had a baby they shouldn’t have had an epidural? Oh I know! Someone who has time to be a jerk. 

Once, years ago I really wanted to win an award at work.  For two years I studied my meeting guides and I went all out at all my meetings with my members trying to be “the best.” I loved my job and I thought that would prove I was good at it. I didn’t win. And I was crushed. Seriously snot running down my face, bawling my eyes out in the parking lot crushed. I remember thinking over what I had done wrong- what could I have done differently? And then realized that this was why I couldn’t be competitive. It hurt too much. I was good at my job. And that was enough. 

The mommy wars was exhausting as my kids entered preschool…

“Oh you got your kids potty trained and reading in one hour?” Fantastic.  My kid just peed off the steps at church…in front of the priest. And the deacon. And everyone else in the world. 

“Oh, your kid is speaking Latin?!” My kid just yelled “Mom, Daniel said your favorite word! You know which word?! Shit!!” In front of the neighbors. 

And it doesn’t go away as the kids get older, I’ve just gotten better at setting boundaries. Which has taken years to be semi-good at. 

But it’s still there. 

As my kids have entered their teens and now I have two adults, I have had a front row seat to amazing things they’ve been a apart of.  But also huge mistakes.

Is there a competition for that? Because sometimes parenting is a shit show.

 Got lunch detention? Yup. Got in trouble at school, and I had to talk to the principal…again?  Yup. Broke a window and a couch in the same week? Yup.  Broke someone’s heart?  Yup.  Ding dong ditched?  Yup.  Snuck Out? Yup. Yup.   Drank underage? Yup Yup. Yup. Got in a fight? Yup. Yup. Yup.  Hung out with people I would NOT approve of, ever in a million years.  Yup Yup Yup. Yup.  Got caught?  Absolutely. And that’s just a teeny sliver.

But there’s also the good.  Apologized for when they messed up?  Yep. Offering to help carry things when someone needed help? Yep. Making extra food for a friend who had food insecurities. Yep. Yep.  Being kind? Yep. Yep. Not engaging in gossip, even when they had been the subject of it? Yep. Yep. Being the first person to always try to go the extra mile for others, make a gift basket, write a letter, be intentional. Yep. Yep.  Came to us when a friend was hurting themselves, even if that meant they’d lose that friend? Yep. Yep. Yep.  Broke up a fight, and helped a teacher who was struggling to do it?  Yep. Yep. Was the designated driver countless times?  Yep. Yep. Yep.  Told the truth?  Yep. Yep. Yep.  

I don’t know why people feel the need to one-up others, it’s just not my thing. Life is hard. No one is perfect. I just want my kids to be good humans.

I’ve spent years of introspection on learning how to be present to others- to not just talk about myself, to hear someone else’s story and love them with their scars, stretch marks, and their real. 

Life is about a lot more than just us. 

I have spent a good deal of my life in relationships and competitions I never wanted part in. 

I’m never going to be able to do everything. 

I’m never going to be the best at anything. 

I’m not going to have some high paying career and I’m never going to bake good cookies. 

I’m going to fail people, a lot. 

I’m never going to be anyone’s favorite. 

I’m not the best daughter, sister, mother, wife, friend. I try really hard but I will still fail. 

I have failed a lot of people. Often. 

And that’s ok. 

Because it’s steals pieces of my heart when people feel the need to show me they are better. I don’t need to be that person. I can’t be that person. Because it hurts on this side. It hurts to be told in so many ways “You lost” when I was never trying to win. 

So here you go- the best of-greatest-chosen first-favorite…You win.  

I don’t want any part of your imaginary competition. I don’t want to be the best, I just want to finish. 

Because the race isn’t done. And for me it isn’t about where I am in the order…I just want to be a part of it. I want to love those around me so completely, that they don’t feel the need to tell me how I’m failing. They’ll see how hard I’ve tried to keep up. How often I’ve stopped to be there in the right now, with the people who needed me the most. 

The only day I want to win is the day I die. 

I want to face my Jesus and be able to tell him…

I wasn’t perfect, not ever, but I finished. 

I want to tell him my best moments were moments when I loved through life…when I sat up with my Dad all night in the ICU, when I packed up my house and left in minutes and drove 5 hours to take care of my sister’s kids when my niece got sick. When I sat with my youngest sister on her worst days, when I held my Mom’s hands and prayed with her before a second mammogram. When I sat and talked to my brother every night for a year when he was going through a divorce. When I watched my sister deliver my goddaughter, as I held up welcome signs. In seeing my Papa John battle through cancer so often but knowing beyond his treatments, he just wants to be able to pray with his family- and that was something I could always do with him. And now as I mourn my beautiful Grandma I think of all the phone conversations we’d have on my way to work, the times we’d pray together states apart, and how I know she knew how much I loved her. 

I have loved through life…

 When I loved my husband through days, when I didn’t know if we could love each other enough to get through it. Through depression, heartache, sickness, and mounting bills that never seemed to go away. When I held Gracie during years of excruciating tests, with insurmountable guilt that I was the reason we lost her sister, and she had these issues. I’ve loved her as we driven for hours at night the last two years, as she’s had to navigate being a teenage girl, who doesn’t understand other teenage girls.  When Jonah went through a traumatic experience and I sat with him for weeks and months, just being there, loving him, reminding him the truth always wins.   When I held Danny’s hand on his first day of kindergarten and I didn’t make him let go, or when I hugged him after his last Varsity football game as he sobbed for as long as he needed. When Micah was born, and I said over and over and over again “Is He alive? Please God. Is He alive?” And after we almost lost him, and I said over and over “”Is He going to live? Please God, let him live.” 

Because it wasn’t ever about me…it was about Us. 

I want to be remembered for loving through life, not winning. I want to spend my time being present rather than thinking about the end. 

Love through life, not winning. 

Just finishing.  

Grace: Mommy why do you write a blog? 

Me: because I feel like I have things to write that people might want to read. 

Grace: Like what? 

Me: Like Real Stories about how we all feel. What is real to you Grace?

Grace: Mommy, Daddy, the brothers, Candy, beautiful things, and most definitely Jesus. Also Barbies, learning to swim and read. 

Me: Sometimes, It’s hard having a blog. Because I don’t know what to write or I’m scared people won’t like what I say. 

Grace: Well then just say…you get to wear make up when you’re sick. 

Grace is sick and wearing a full face of makeup. And I wrote in my blog. 

 
God gives me Grace…with lip gloss and eye shadow, and mascara and blush. And a whole lotta wonderful EVEN with a fever. 

How to be a back up singer in an 80’s Band. (Part 1) 

1. Love love love the 80’s. Like Turn around every now and then I get a little nostalgic and want to sing around…

2. Sing. A lot. And learn the harmonies. And keep singing. And If you see a painted sign at the side of the road…you’re getting there. 

3. Find shoes. And make Cyndi Lauper proud. 

 
I’m so excited- and I just can’t hide it! 

(This post took a little longer and a little more perspective to post…writing everyday recently has been a challenge mostly because I want to write what God’s calling me to write, however the last couple weeks have been hard. But this is real life and so I restart and I write.) 

The thing is…

Once life has shattered into a million little pieces, and you see everything splayed all over the floor…all your real, even when you put it back together, especially when you try desperately to put it all back together they will still be there. 
Cracks. 

And you never really get used to it. Because it may look kind of like you. And feel once in a while sort of like you…it’s not you. It’s like some sort of new imposter in your body, mind, and soul. 

For a while the wholeness of feeling everything again, was the only thing I needed. However, lately the cracks have been more visible to me. On the surface, across my heart. 

And you know what? I’m sick of the cracks. 

For almost 11 years I practiced what I preached. I swept away a lifetime of negative body talk the day my first child was born and promised I would never ever speak negative about myself around my children. After my second child was born I transformed my health. I worked out 6 days a week. My weight was healthy. And it stayed that way. I was healthy. I never caved to yoyo dieting or gave into fads…okay, I DID buy Tae Bo. I ate birthday cake and didn’t shame myself. At work, I have worked and helped people get healthy in moderation for the rest of their lives. We don’t talk about weight in my house, we talk about health…and that goes beyond working out, and eating right- health by what we watch on TV and what else we are exposed to. 

And if you ask me if I’ve tried crossfit I may punch you in the face. Because it’s not about a workout. 

It’s about me. 

So right now this big huge crack that has arrived in the past year with my self image, with my health, has completely shattered the hard work I have done over those years. And yes I know my self worth isn’t based on all this, I get that, I’m passionate about that… I just think it’s not fair. 

There I said it. It’s not fair. 

All that hard work to be right here. With all these cracks.

And it’s hard because I feel like there are the people that know me, who were there, who saw how much I changed and how I really took on a healthy view of life. Because that’s where the issue lies.  I want to feel better, but I also wanted one place to be untouched when it shattered. This was something I had never given up on. 

I never got to finish college, but that is something I knew would shape the rest of my kids lives…the right kind of healthy. That’s worth way more to me than a piece of paper. 

I want to feel better. I’ve done the work. And I want to see results when I’m trying so hard. If there’s a lesson in all of this, I’m not getting it. Because this whole self care thing is a whole lotta work. And when it’s not working all I see are cracks. Lots and lots of cracks. 

Do you hear me Lord?!

 I don’t want this lesson anymore. This lesson sucks. I learned this lesson 11 years ago. This time though I did everything right, I never veered off track. And here I am. I haven’t used excuses. I keep giving this to you, begging you to just let me love me, right in the right now. To give me answers, right in the right here. 

Here’s where I’ve been different this time…

 I haven’t hid away, not like Before.  I’ve allowed myself in pictures. I’ve even let them be posted. I haven’t hid from commitments or joy- I tried out for an 80’s band for crying out loud, and will be performing with them in 2 weeks. Hello? Is this me you’re looking for??? 

I even wore freaking shorts! That is monumental. I. Wore. Shorts. 

In front of people! 

And I still have never spoke to my kids about any of this. 

Because when I break it down, I know where my self worth stands…it’s in the fact that in all the years I’ve been married I have always shown up, every single day and tried. I’ve never quit.

 It’s the fact that my kids know that I love them, that I am right there with them, and that their self worth is not about how they look, how they perform in sports or school- it will always be about who they are to this world. 

And that is where I saw the lesson.

My family didn’t shatter. I did. My family was doesn’t see the cracks. I do. 

And while my real might be clamoring to wake up and feel whole again- I have found my brave in the right now. I show up to work. I go to church. And I speak the real, the uncomfortable. I won’t stop because of the cracks. They are there. But so am I. 

As I was writing this I remembered how as a child I would always step over the cracks never allowing any weight to rest on them. Because of bad luck. My best friend and I would always make sure to not let a pole seperate us as we walked places. I would make deals with God. I was so busy focusing on how to avoid the bad that I never realized the good. 

God works in the cracks. 

He rebuilds the shattered. And leaves spaces. For Him. 

Because we aren’t done. 

And yeah this isn’t fair, not really. But I wasn’t promised fair. I was promised life. 

Messy, beautiful, real life. 

I will find good. I will love. I will work. And I will pray that God will continue to restore me. He has already done so much…

I’m still here. 

Look at me, all cracked and stuff.  

I love hellos. Even the awkward ones where you’re not quite sure what to say. I love the chaos of reunions. I love to welcome people into my home. 

I hate goodbyes. 

Today we said goodbye to some of our closest friends(guest writer August 14) as they head off in a few days to follow the call to be missionary’s. 

Angel and Bryce are so much more to us than just family friends. 

For the last 14 years we’ve lived an hour away from each other but I know I can get in the car and see them whenever…and the same goes for them. We get together and it’s a mad dash of chaos and kids, someone always cries, and I usually feed the kids quesadillas. Today other Good friends showed up for a while and we all prayed together…

That’s another thing, we are the kind of friends who pray together. Really pray. 

I am open with Angel about the uncomfortable- the longing to have another child, but at the same time the wondering if this is what God has for us right now. We are not perfect, none of us, but we love each other. I know that Dyp can tell Bryce anything. They have helped us move every time in the last 15 years, we have remodeled our houses together, we have laughed and cried together. 

And today we said goodbye…maybe for a year, maybe for two, as they set out to love people and serve God. We don’t quite know where they will end up after their training…it could be Mexico, Ecuador, Phillipines. But we do know it may be dangerous, they could be risking their lives. 

But still, they will go…because the will of God is greater than any fear. 

Their family theme is “my grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor. 12:9…so I am asking you to join me as I pray for so much grace for them as they venture off into so much unknown. As they’ve given away almost everything, I truly believe they will gain riches we can’t even comprehend. 

Goodbyes are so hard. Most of us cried. Especially our Daniel as he said goodbye to his godparents, they have guided and loved his vast passionate faith, and he is very close to them. 

We are so blessed by them. We love them so much. I guess I can’t even be eloquent tonight because I’m feeling a profound overwhelming feeling of happy and sad. I guess that’s the blessing of the best kinds of friends…the goodbyes always hurt. 

  
Daniel and his godparents…(this kid is super blessed to have two sets) 

  
Cabrini my beautiful goddaughter. 

  
Friends forever and ever. 

  
Family. 

I love this family. 
I asked you to join me in praying for the Herrmann family as they begin their missionary work. And if you feel called to support them it would be such a blessing to their family, they have given up so much to serve but can’t do it without spiritual and financial help… http://HerrmannFamily.fmcMissions.com/

No matter where you are today, no matter what you’re doing…own it. Be radiant in your own skin, in your own body, in your soul. 

So basically to sum it all up. Be like Grace. 

(joyfulmysteries note: I feel honored to introduce this post today, and honestly didn’t know where to start. But I guess I’ll share that the writer today is one of my dearest closest friends, but is also one of my husbands closest friends…in fact they have been friends since they were in kindergarten. They traveled together through out school, and even went to the same private high school 30 minutes from where they both grew up. They went and served in ministry together for a year, and went to the same college after that. They lived in the same Co Op together, and then he was roommates with her (now) husband. She could have just been his friend, but she became mine. After college we moved to the same town, and we have so many memories. When we moved for Dyp’s job our friendship stayed strong. Angel is…She is funny and kind. She is an absolute prayer warrior. She sang “The a Greatest Love of All” when I was in labor with Daniel(her godson) to me, because I asked(she also sang it at a Talent show when she was 12, and I tell the story as if I was there). I used to hang up her and Dyp’s homecoming picture on our fridge whenever they’d come over. Every year I’ve watched God call her out of her comfortable and she has listened even when it’s been hard. Especially when it has been. When she and Bryce told us they were considering becoming missionary’s we weren’t surprised, In fact I believe their entire lives have been a life of service. When we are all together, with 8 kids between us, we all stand in awe of the power of lifelong friendships that survive chaos and life, the joy and the sadness. We are so thankful for the gift of Angel and Bryce. We are so proud to call them friends. But they are also family to us. Thank you Angel for your real today, and thank you for incredible friendship. You inspire me everyday.) 
My Real
My real is this…my wonderful husband Bryce and I, along with our four children are about one week away from being homeless and unemployed. This is actually by choice. We are leaving everything and everybody we know and love to become Catholic, foreign missionaries. Again also by choice. Well, sort of. We are trying to do what God calls us to do.
 The funny thing about all of this is even in the face of such huge change, my struggles remain the same. In parenting, in being a wife, daughter, sister, friend, Christian, person, I am constantly aware of the ways I lack. I am not good enough, funny enough, smart enough, fill-in-the-blank enough. I will often hold back from any given situation because of my anxieties, my fears, my lack. 

 Here’s the thing though, I am actually not enough, only God is enough. Only with God is there no lack. He is full. So while I am focused on my failures, I’m missing the constant abundance He is placing before me. If I am thinking of the ways I fail in parenting my children, I am missing their easy, confident love for me, their laughter, their joy, even their forgiveness. If I am thinking about how my amazing husband deserves a wife that is kinder, holier, and more beautiful, then I am not recognizing his incredible service to me and even the ways he struggles so I am failing even more! 

 What God, I think, is trying to show me is that if I am focused on me, I am missing out on Him. God does not love me because I am good enough, funny enough, smart enough. He did not give me these children, this husband, these friends and even this desire to become a missionary because I have earned it, because I am enough for them. He gave them to me because He loves me completely and He knows that I can be closer to Him, if I listen to Him, if I say yes to Him. I am free when I am living completely in His love and abundance. I am free when I realize I can never be enough and allow His Grace to take over. I am so far from achieving this it is ridiculous, but they say admitting you have a problem is the first step. 2 Cor 12:9 “My grace is sufficient for you, power is made perfect in weakness.”

 If you are interested in reading more about our family and our missionary call and journey, feel free to follow our blog at HerrmannFamilyMissions.blogspot.com or on http://www.facebook.com/bryce.herrmann. Or just check out Family Missions Company, they are an amazing group that we will be serving with on this journey! 

My name is Angel and I am a daughter of the “One True King”. I was raised in a small town in Southern Oregon called Wilderville, as the youngest of 6 kids. My wonderful husband and I have been blessed with 4 children on earth and 2 in heaven. God is apparently shaking things up in our life and calling us to give away most of our possessions, leave most of what we know and love and take this bit of craziness on the road. Our goal is to share the love of Jesus & our love for His Catholic Church as well as live in solidarity with the poor we are serving. If you can spare a prayer or two for us, we’d greatly appreciate it! 

“The battle of life, is in most cases, fought uphill; and to win it without a struggle were perhaps to win it without honor. If there were no difficulties there would be no success; if there was nothing to struggle for, there would be nothing to be achieved.” – Samuel Smiles 

It’s been an uphill battle sort of week. But you know what? I’m still in this. And so are you. 

We’re still here.